


Unraveling the Night

by Cynthia_Silver



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Birthday Sex, Dean's Birthday, Dom Dean, Dom Sam, F/M, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Sam's Birthday, Spoiler: You're the present, Two Versions, choose your own smutty adventure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-26 18:30:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3860203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cynthia_Silver/pseuds/Cynthia_Silver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You forget Sam's (Or Dean's! You decide!) birthday until it's almost too late, so you decide to offer yourself up as a present.  Smut ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Sam Version

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JamesDeanPrincess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamesDeanPrincess/gifts), [Coldplaying_In_The_TARDIS](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coldplaying_In_The_TARDIS/gifts).



> There are two versions of this fic. One is Sam/Reader and the other is Dean/Reader. They are two different fics adapted to suit Sam or Dean and are not just the same one with the names replaced, so enjoy!

The sound of plastic cutlery scraping against Chinese takeout dinner boxes was almost enough to distract you from the heavy gloom that had settled over Sam.  He was fine this morning, but it seemed like he just kept getting more and more melancholic with every passing hour, and now he was at the point of silently brooding over his noodles, not even attempting small talk. 

You had tried to coax him out of his sudden grief, tried to pry him out of this shell of unreason with gentle words and touches, but now you were a little upset with him.  I mean it’s not like you’d forgotten—oh. 

Oh no.                                                                    

Almost as soon as you remembered, Sam finally, _finally_ caved in and said, with not a little hurt or attempted nonchalance, “Today’s my birthday.”

You sat staring at him in despairing silence for a few moments before beginning to apologize profusely, but as you blathered on, rather than become more depressed, as you had expected, Sam suddenly began to smirk, of all things, and your voice trailed off as you noted his pupils, expanding rapidly, and his eyelids drooping to meet his increasingly-wicked grin, the kind of grin that made you clench your thighs together.

“Didn’t get me a card, or a cake, or even a gift,” he said, only half mocking offense.  You lowered your eyes, only glancing up at him occasionally, every time seeing his dirty plans for you written all over his face.  “So,” he leaned towards you across the table.  You shivered.  “How about I let you make it up to me?”

You nodded, cheeks flushing with the arousal taking hold within you already.  The chair squeaked back behind Sam as he slowly stood, already touching you with his vision.  He circled the edge of the table and firmly, but loosely, took hold of your arm, guiding you to stand also.  You complied easily and followed as he led you to your shared bedroom, shutting the door softly behind you both before he turned you around to face him and took your lips in his own.

The kiss was long, soft warmth given and received as you moved closer to each other.  Sam wrapped his arms around you, gradually sliding them down to your waist, pulling you inward against his body.  Finally his hands rested firmly on your buttocks.  Suddenly Sam pressed your hips into his, and you gasped as you felt his stiffness.  A rumble from deep within his chest signified his pleasure at the hot press of you against him.

“Let me tell you,” said Sam, voice deepened greatly.  “What I want for my birthday.”  You moaned, letting your eyes shut of their own accord.  “First things first,” he groaned.  “I want these clothes off of you.”  He worked hurriedly at your belt buckle as you undid your shirt buttons clumsily.  Within a few minutes, you were feeling his hands run in one smooth line from your hips all the way to your breasts.  This caused your hands to stutter as they pulled Sam’s own garments from his body.  It took some time before he was likewise naked before you, mostly because Sam would simply not relent in his delicious treatment of your nipples (not that you would have him do so).

You frowned when he broke away from you and instead yanked open one of his dresser drawers, pulling out a roll of… plastic wrap?  “Now,” he began, steadily pulling an edge of the roll free from itself and walking towards you.  “Since you didn’t remember to get me anything… I’m going to wrap you up, and then take my time unwrapping you.”  He looked into your eyes, pausing, questioning, and suddenly changing tone.  “Is that okay?”

You trusted Sam with everything you had, with your soul, and certainly with your body.  You nodded your consent and kissed him quickly on the corner of his mouth, feeling his lips tug up at your approval.  When next Sam spoke, his commanding tone was back. 

He pushed you away very gently, holding you at your ribs.  “Lift your arms, baby.”  You complied, feeling the wetness begin between your legs.  “You tell me if this is too tight or you need me to get it off of you, okay?”  You agreed to this, and he began winding the clear plastic around your exposed body, beginning by covering your breasts and creating a thin, snug layer around your body.  Down and down he spiraled, having to drop to his knees in order to wrap around your waist.  You made a small noise in your throat at the memory of his mouth between your legs and dropped your hands to rest in his hair.

“Not yet,” he chided, already wrapping past your crotch and encircling your upper thighs in the plastic.  He stopped at your knees, wrapping a few extra layers just above them for security in the wrapping.  When he finished, he stood back a few feet, admiring his work.  You all but moaned when you saw him visibly harden at the sight of you. 

With that same devilish grin, he swept you into his arms, lifting you into the air, wedding-style and planted you on the bed.  The sheets felt oddly smooth and cool against your wrapped skin, the pressure spreading around you like a blanket.

“What a lovely present you make,” Sam whispered into your ear as he ran his fingers down your sides, straddling you.  You put your arms up beside your head as Sam lifted up to get a clearer view of you.  Your breasts and thighs, spread out in taut planes against the plastic intrigued and aroused him.  “I might not unwrap you for a long, long time, you look so good…” he trailed, seemingly talking to himself. 

A soft moan escaped you as you felt the odd sensation of his fingers rubbing your nipples through the wrapping.  It was a widespread pressure, tantalizingly soft, leaving no nerve untouched.  Your legs twitched as you tried to spread them, and your hands, seemingly of their own accord, soon cupped the back of Sam’s large hands as they played with your sensitive nipples.  Sweat began to gather inside the wrapping and all over your skin. 

Leaving one of his hands free to scratch and rub at your breasts, Sam dragged the other up and down your body.  When it reached your hip, you bucked up into Sam and clutched his nearest hand with both of yours.  He chuckled as you groaned and began to tease and knead into your mound.  The mattress jumped as you writhed and gasped and clutched under Sam’s careful, tantalizing touches and caresses.

His hands disappeared from you all at once, and were replaced by the cold sensation of a pair of bandage-cutting scissors slipping under the wrapping at your thigh.  Sam carefully freed you from your plastic encasement.  Air tickled at your sweat-prickled flesh.  As soon as you were able, you spread your legs, finding yourself wet and ready, clit swollen and begging to be touched.  You looked down to see that Sam, too, was feeling his arousal deeply. 

When the scissors reached the end of your bonds, Sam set them aside and lifted you into a sitting position so he could clear away the plastic underneath you. You kissed him fully as he did so, and when the last of the wrapping was off the bed, he reached for the bottle of lube on the table beside you, quickly lathering his length with it before rolling on a condom.

“Lie down,” he instructed, and you obeyed, eyes blown wide with anticipation. 

Neither of you could contain the sounds of your pleasure as he slid into you.  You clutched at his back, panting and gasping, crying out as he began to roll his hips.  Sam moaned into your neck, nipping at it as he thrusted harder into you, sending rippling waves of pleasure through your core.  You felt your nails scratch his skin and he groaned, the motion of his hips becoming more erratic already.  The heat within you both was unbearable, and you did your best to rock your hips in time with his intense rhythm. 

Soon you were both muttering nonsense, begging, pleading, praising and cursing.  Sam grunted out your name when he came, and this pushed you over the edge, your climaxes pulsing through your joined bodies.  You held each other through the aftershocks, kissing, stroking, loving.

Sam cleaned you both up, wiping your sweat away with a towel and likewise disposing of his own sweat and seed, tossing away all the plastic.  When he returned, he pulled the sheets over you and pulled you against his body once more, holding you tenderly.  You wished him a happy birthday, and he smiled lightheartedly.  

“We’ll celebrate tomorrow, baby,” he mumbled.  “I’m not even mad.”

You relaxed into him, and soon, the dark warmth of sleep coated you both.


	2. The Dean Version

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the one for Not Moose.

The soft crinkling sounds of the burger wrappers on the table was almost enough to distract you from the heavy gloom that had settled over Dean.  He had been morose all day.  Not even your suggestion of pie at the diner from which tonight’s takeout meal had come cheered him up.   

You had tried to coax him out of his sudden grief, tried to pry him out of this shell of unreason with gentle words and touches, but now you were a little concerned for him.  You wondered what had caused this.  Dean was rarely very open with his emotions, but usually he would have talked to you about it by now.

This couldn’t be your fault, could it?  You wracked your brain for your possible errors, and—oh.

Oh no. 

Almost as soon as you remembered your mistake, Dean stood and gave a short, pouty “I’m going to bed,” before all but storming down the hall before you could say a word.

Today was Dean’s birthday, and you’d forgotten all about it.

You called after him but he ignored you, and soon you rushed after him, but stopped yourself.  Dean was a sensual man, and words might not get through to him as quickly as touch.  You remembered suddenly what you had planned to do for him today months ago, and darted off to the kitchen, quickly rifling through a drawer to grab a roll of plastic wrap, and darting down the hall towards Dean’s room within a minute.

He looked just as sad when you crept into his room, his room illuminated by his lamp.  You immediately strode over to him and kissed him as passionately as you could, dropping the roll into the bed beside him.  He lifted his eyebrows, surprised by the sudden display of affection.  When you stopped to breathe, he chuckled darkly.  “Finally remember, huh, sweetheart?”

You nodded, sheepish, though you reached for the plastic wrap and waved it in front of Dean’s face.  A swift moment passed before Dean’s comprehension showed in his face.  “Ooooh,” he purred, taking the roll from you and raking his eyes up and down your body.  You shivered.  “Going to make me wrap my own present this year, are you?”

 You nodded once more, cheeks flushing with the arousal taking hold within you already.  Both of you had wanted to try this for quite some time now.  Dean stood and took your lips in his own.  Dean was tongue and a little teeth.  He tasted you fully when he kissed you like this, and you softly moaned into his mouth.  Dean wrapped his arms around you, gradually sliding them down to your waist, pulling you inward against his body.  He slid his arms up and down your back, slipping lower on each down stroke, until finally he slipped his hands into your back pockets.

“Let’s get these clothes off of us, shall we?”  Dean suggested when your lips parted.  He took his time with your belt buckle and you reached for his shirt buttons, hands shaking with adrenaline as you undid them.  Within a few minutes, you could feel his firm lines against your soft ones, and you were feeling his hands run in one smooth line from your hips all the way to your breasts.  This caused your hands to stutter as they pulled at Dean’s jeans.  Dean helped you along, making quick work of his own clothes and tossing them aside.

“Ready?” he asked, picking the roll back up.  “You’ll tell me if you’re hurting or anything?” Dean questioned.  You nodded your assent.  “Good.”  Dean’s grin was wolfish, and it sent tingles right between your legs.  “Now stand still,” he commanded.  You whimpered oh-so softly and did as you were told.

Dean began winding the clear plastic around your exposed body, beginning by wrapping it around your shoulders, going down and creating a thin, snug layer around your body.  Down and down he spiraled, having to drop to his knees in order to wrap around your waist.  You made a small noise in your throat at the memory of his mouth between your legs and you twitched, wishing you could pull his mouth closer to the tingling and the heat.

Noticing your excitement, he momentarily stopped his work to press a hot, wet kiss onto the crease between your thigh and pussy.  You let out a ragged moan and might have fallen were it not for the support Dean’s hands on your hip bones provided.

He continued wrapping once you were steady on your feet once more.  He wound firm spirals down your thighs and past your knees, going all the way to your feet.  Once he had finished, he immediately swept you into his arms, lifting you into the air, wedding-style and planted you on the bed.  The sheets felt oddly smooth and cool against your wrapped skin, the pressure spreading around you like a blanket.

Dean straddled you and groaned at the sight of you, his cock twitching.  Your breasts and thighs, spread out in taut planes against the plastic intrigued and aroused him.  “You make such a pretty present,” he told you as he spread his palms over your sensitive nipples.  You wiggled under the touch and the scrutiny, feeling the wetness already beginning a slow journey down between your legs.

A soft moan escaped you as you felt the odd sensation of his palms rubbing against your nipples through the wrapping.  It was a widespread pressure, tantalizingly soft, leaving no nerve untouched.  Your legs and arms twitched as you tried to spread them, trying to wrap your fingers around anything solid to keep you anchored.  Sweat began to gather inside the wrapping and all over your skin. 

Leaving one of his hands free to palm at your breasts, Dean leaned forward and kissed you hard.  You felt so enclosed and vulnerable under him that you couldn’t suppress a shudder and moaned into his open mouth. He chuckled as you groaned and traced one of his hands down your side, achingly slowly in its path.  You bucked up as he neared your hips, and within a few moments he began to tease and knead into your mound.  The mattress jumped as you writhed and struggled for purchase against the onslaught of rich sensation under Dean’s loving hands. 

He kneaded and teased at your breasts and your mound until you were begging, hot and sweating, doing your best to get more, more, please more.

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” said Dean, his voice thick with arousal.  His hands were replaced by the cold sensation of a pair of bandage-cutting scissors slipping under the wrapping at your ankle.  Efficiently Dean cut away at the clear bonds around your skin.  Air tickled at your sweat-prickled flesh as it was revealed.  As soon as you were able, you spread your legs wide, needing and dripping, your clit swollen and begging to be touched.  You felt Dean’s erection against your hip as he worked to free your upper body.

When the scissors reached the end of your plastic encasement, Dean set them aside and reached for the bottle of lube on the table beside you, quickly lathering his length with it before handing you a condom.  You rolled it on quickly, resisting the temptation to tease his already leaking length.  Dean kissed your forehead before leaning back and spreading your thighs even farther apart.  You grasped at the frayed plastic edges beneath you and jerked your hips forward a little, impatient for release.

Neither of you could contain the sounds of your pleasure as he slid into you.  You clutched at his back, panting and gasping, crying out as he began to roll his hips.  Dean grunted when you wrapped your legs around him, and he thrusted harder into you, sending rippling waves of pleasure through your core.  He pressed his fingertips hard into your skin and buried his head into your neck, the motion of his hips becoming more erratic already.  You clung to him, letting him drive your pleasure, only trying to move your hips in time with his intense rhythm. 

Soon you were both muttering nonsense, begging, pleading, praising and cursing.  Dean shouted your name when he came, and this pulled you over the edge, your climaxes pulsing through your joined bodies.  You held each other through the aftershocks, kissing, stroking, loving.

Dean cleaned you both up, wiping your sweat away with a towel and likewise disposing of his own sweat and seed, tossing away all the plastic.  When he returned, he pulled the sheets over you and pulled you against his body once more, holding you tenderly.  You wished him a happy birthday, and he smiled lightheartedly.  “You still owe me some cake,” he teased sleepily.  You poked him slightly in retaliation, but within just a few minutes, you were both taken under sleep’s clouded wing.


End file.
